


Sweet Release (Formerly "Sugar Rush")

by equilateral_asshat



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: F/M, blowjobs ahoy, pinecest - Freeform, pinescest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-18 11:08:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16993881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/equilateral_asshat/pseuds/equilateral_asshat
Summary: I've heard sources say that the fruits thing doesn't work, and that it does. For the sake of this completely fictional story with fictional characters having fictional sex, let's say it works!





	Sweet Release (Formerly "Sugar Rush")

Mabel grimaced. It wasn’t that she didn’t like doing this for her bro-friend. In fact she really really _REALLY_ loved it. The noises he made, the way he stared at her while she was down there, sucking away and slobbering on the deliciously salty, musky organ was like heaven. But that end result was always just a little too _bitter_ , and while on special occasions she might just bear it and gulp it down, this time was like so many others where, afterwards, she quickly grabbed a nearby trashbin and spat the glob of spunk out.

“Mabes,” Dipper groaned, fingers disengaging from her hair as he shifted to sit up further. His voice held concern, and when she managed to look up at him, his expression matched the tone. “If… if you don’t like it you don’t have to let me, you know, cum in your mouth. I’ve told you before I warn you so-”

“I know!” she cut him off, waving a hand as she gave the underside of his length a tender smooch. “I just… I know how much you like it when I DO swallow so I keep trying to build myself up for it, but sometimes I can’t follow through.” She pouted, nuzzling against his quickly softening manhood. It was the truth, too. If she was in the right spot often she wouldn’t be able to taste it, and could just guzzle it down. That had not been one of those days. He’d hit his breaking point mid-head-bob and she’d caught the full force of it against the middle of her tongue. Remembering how disgusted her expression must have been, she buried her face against his thigh with a moan of disappointment. “Don’t worry, Dipper. I’ll find some way to get over this,” she muttered into his leg, and he responded by puling her up, into his lap, and planting a kiss on her lips.

“How about YOU not worry because I just told you you don’t have to?” he said, brushing his nose to hers. She sighed contentedly in his arms, but she was still mulling it over internally. _I WILL find a way to enjoy doing this for you…_

———  
———

The next morning found Mabel pushing her way through the supermarket with gusto. Her sweater for the day was a fuzzy pink thing with loose sleeves that only came halfway past her elbow, and it had a pineapple in sunglasses embroidered to the front. Her yellow shorts came to just above her knees, and her purple socks came up just high enough to meet those. Her sneakers were a simple white number that she’d bedazzled with a multitude of colored stones, because hey, Mabel just couldn’t do boring when it came to her looks.

The cart in front of her was filled with essentials; a 24 pack of Pitt Cola, pixie sticks, gummi koalas, a box of cereal that seemed to be overflowing with marshmallows. Oh, and there was also some soup and pizza stuff because her brother couldn’t survive on sugar like she did. He once jokingly suggested she was part hummingbird but she’d immediately spent the next two days hurriedly making herself an emerald feathered costume to tease him with. He never really complained but she never wore it again either, so she had just stuffed it in her half of the closet with the rest of her costumes.

However, her shopping trip on this day was a special mission. She had stayed awake longer than her significant-brother to do a little snooping online. How could she make it easier to finish what she started and swallow at the end of things? Oogle luckily gave her the perfect answer, and now she was here in the produce aisle staring down her battle-plan.

Various fruits were finding their ways into her cart; several pineapples, a bag of plums, a few cartons of blueberries. These were later joined by several packages of poultry meat, and two bottles of white grape juice. A week’s worth of food piled in the cart with one simple mission, and if she could successfully get through it without Dipper catching on, she would feed two addictions at once; sugar and sucking dick.

———  
———

Dipper arrived home from work, opening the door to the apartment he and his sister-slash-girlfriend shared and immediately smiled as a sweet scent wafted out to greet him. He stalked into the main area after kicking his shoes off at the door and then poked his head into the kitchen inquisitively. The counter top was a battlefield of various chopped fruits in bowls, knives and cutting boards cluttered near the sink, and in front of the stove was his sister tossing something with a sweet, slightly spicy smell about in a wok while she noisily hummed an old Sev'ral Times song. Seizing the moment, he snuck up behind her and quietly hugged around her waist before growling playfully in her ear.

“I see you’ve been busy today,” he mused, peppering her neck with kisses. Mabel giggled and squirmed, batting at his hand with a wooden spoon playfully. “What smells so good?”

“I found a few recipes I thought we could try this week! This one’s kind of like a barbecue chicken with a fruity glaze,” she explained, giving the mixture in the wok another diligent toss. He just hummed in appreciation, his lips suckling down onto the pulse point under her skin. Her knees buckled until she rapped his hand with the spoon again, more insistent this time. “Dipperrrr, I’m busy!”

“Ow, hey, okay okay,” he relented, sucking at his knuckles where she’d caught him with the spoon. She twisted to pout at him, frowning thoughtfully at his hands. She HATED seeing his hands hurt, she practically fetishized the things. He grinned with a shrug as he pulled his hand away from his lips. “You didn’t do any real damage, see?”

She leaned in, scrutinizing his knuckles one by one and then giving each one a kiss before she waggled the spoon at him. “Okay then, but you go get ready for dinner! Out, before I have to do something I regret with this spoon!” She swished it at him as though it were a fencing foil, and he retreated with laughter.

“I’m going, I’m going! Sheesh, I need to go do some paperwork anyhow, lemme know when it’s dinnertime,” he said, leaving her to her own devices. Half an hour or so later they were sitting down to eat. 

“Oh, Mabes,” he mumbled around a mouthful of the new dish. “Thiff iff famtaffic!”

“Hey, no talking with your mouth full young man!” she chided him, brandishing her spoon in his direction. He frowned a bit, swallowed, and blew a raspberry at her before responding.

“We’re the same age!”

“If I recall I was born five minutes before you,” she scoffed, raising her nose indignantly. They both managed to keep a serious tone before bursting into giggles. “But thanks, bro bro. I hope you like everything else I’ve got planned for the rest of the week.” He quirked an eyebrow at her, and for a moment she felt caught.

“You’re going to cook the whole week? Lady Mabelton what has gotten into you?” he teased, forking another mouthful up to his lips. She merely fluttered her eyelashes at him with an innocent smile, causing him to snigger around his current bite of food. If she was going to cook this good for a whole week, though, he wasn’t arguing.

———  
———

After the third day, he was starting to feel a bit skeptical. Everything she fixed was laden with fruit, she kept giving him fruit juice and as much as he loved chicken, eating it day after day was beginning to wear thin. She packed his lunch (fruit salad, again, joy), and she seemed ready to fight him when she saw him grabbing a frozen pizza one day. What he couldn’t figure out was WHY she was doing all of this.

_I’m not getting fat, am I?_ he questioned one day, staring in the mirror as he poked at his midsection. Sure he’d never been muscular but she had always seemed to love his midsection. He twisted and turned, staring at himself. _That’s not it, so what is she playing at? She wouldn’t be doing this for no reason…_ He sighed, defeated.

He had tried asking, but she stonewalled him at every turn. “It’ll be worth it, ya just gotta trust me!” she’d insist, usually chasing him out of the kitchen as she did so. His body was starting to miss junk food on a molecular level, he could feel it. But she had everything sequestered in the kitchen, which was still off limits for a few days yet. His stomach groaned in protest as he ate a few slices of pineapple one day.

“I know, man, I know…” he groused, rubbing his midsection with a pout. “But the girlfriend says it’ll be worth the suffering. Just hold out awhile longer.”

Another day went by, and then another, Dipper holding out hopefully. That night Mabel must have sensed his desire for something new because she made some tacos, which thankfully spared him from another day of some fruity-chicken dish again. They had started blending together at one point and it made it hard to remember one day’s meal from the next. When he bit into it, though, he noticed that she’d made some sort of fruit salsa to top them. And, despite being heavily spiced, the meat was still unmistakably poultry.

He sighed as he chewed, trying to power through the meal. When he looked up, he noticed Mabel frowning while she watched him. “What?” he asked, and she shook her head. “Mabel, what’s wrong?”

“You don’t like it,” she pouted, taking a halfhearted bite of her own taco. Dipper sighed heavily. “See?! I knew it.”

“Sis, it’s not that I don’t like your cooking. This is good, it’s REALLY good. But Mabel, I cannot survive on pineapples and chicken alone! What is this diet about all the sudden?”

“I can’t say, I mean, it’s supposed to be a surprise!” she said, her eyes wide and pleading. He frowned and sat back from the table a bit, staring down at himself.

“Am I getting fatter and I just don’t notice?”

“What?! Dipp, hon, no!” she protested, standing up and marching over to his side of the table. She then plopped in his lap sideways, hugging around his neck as she pressed her forehead to his. “Just… just trust me, one more day okay?”

His eyes sought hers out, his hazel gaze locking onto her chocolate stare. He merely nodded softly, then placed a small kiss on her lips, then another. She giggled and planted a firmer, more insistent kiss on his lips in return, but then slunk out of his lap and back to her own seat so they could finish eating. Mabel’s smooches seemed to be the best seasoning, because suddenly the meal wasn’t so bad.

———  
———

Dipper awoke to the smell of pancakes. Blueberry from the fruity odor but, he could deal with blueberries for one last meal if it was pancakes! He shuffled his way from the bedroom to the dining room table, where he found a glass of fruit juice staring at him from his spot. He glared at it momentarily, as if trying to mentally force its molecular structure to shift to that of a nice, rich black coffee. No such luck, it would seem. _Tomorrow I’m going to sneak out and eat a rare steak that costs half my paycheck I swear to the Time Baby Overlord…_

His train of thought was interrupted by a plate of fat, fluffy pancakes and sugary syrup being sat down in front of him before his twin planted a soft kiss on his forehead. His sour mood lifted as he gave her a groggy smile, eyes barely staying open as he picked up the syrup and tipped it over his plate of pan-fried confections. Pancakes were kind of like junk food, right? And maple syrup, oh a flavor, any flavor at all that wasn’t fruit, how he had missed thee.

She sat and ate her own helping quietly, watching him inhale his food with gusto. She noticed he went a bit heavier on the syrup than he typically would for pancakes. She briefly wondered if he could even taste anything else on the plate. _Poor guy, I guess I did a real number on him with this idea. Hopefully he appreciates the end result._

“Soooo,” she said as he shoveled the last soggy, syrupy crumbs into his mouth, and he grunted in response through his mouthful, pausing to glance at her. “Today is the last day I’m going to force this on you, like I said. I just hope you don’t resent me for it.” She pushed an uneaten chunk of flapjack around, chewing on her lower lip. He cleared his throat after he swallowed his bite and shook his head.

“Mabes, I could never resent you. I just…” he started, but he went quiet and started to stare at his glass of fruit juice. The syrup made him thirsty, but he could use some strong coffee right now. That glass of juice was mocking him. “I’m starting to really hate fruits and veggies right about now.”

She frowned and nodded, standing up and walking over to him. He watched nervously, but she held out her hand, which he accepted, and she tugged him to his feet. “Dip-Dop,” she said, leaning in and nuzzling his chin. Then she snuffled and shook her head. “Whoaman, you need a shower!”

“I can’t be that b-”

“Like heck you can’t! You go clean off and put on something clean! Doesn’t have to be fancy, we’re staying in today, but get out of that nasty biz you got on,” she said, turning him about by his shoulders and pushing him towards their bathroom.

“Okay, OKAY, sheesh Mabel!” he laughed, stumbling off to wash up. She waited until she heard the shower kick on and the tell tale, but muted, sound of off-key Babba lyrics being sang. She hurriedly cleared the table, then went and changed her outfit into something casual but still sexy enough to catch her bro-bro’s eye. Low cut t-shirt and a short skirt it was! But what about under that? … nothing it was!

She plopped herself down on the couch, turned on some cartoons and waited. Soon the singing stopped, and she heard his tromping in the background as he went from one room to the next to get dressed. A few minutes later she heard heavier, faster footsteps and she managed to swivel and lay flat on the couch as he vaulted to flop on top of her heavily, successfully spreading his weight so he didn’t smash her.

“EEK! Ack, no! I’m under attack!” she squealed, squirming as he laid enthusiastic, slobbery kisses on her jawline and neck, her hands balled into fists that she gently beat against his chest. “You brute, you brute!” They collapsed into a fit of giggles together, soon after, his head resting on her chest as they tried to calm down. They lay like that for awhile, cuddled close before he cleared his throat.

“So, uh, sorry if I’ve been a grumpy-Gompers lately,” he mumbled nosing at her collarbone. “I guess I relied on junk food WAY more than I thought I did. And honestly, as good as your cooking is I don’t think I can do another gauntlet of fruit-and-chicken like this.” She just waved her fingers dismissively.

“Hopefully after what I have waiting for you you won’t think twice about eating more fruit and stuff,” she teased, giving her eyebrows one of those trademark Mabel-waggles. It was supposed to be seductive. Dipper never had the heart to tell her it was just goofy, but maybe since her goofiness was so endearing it became sexy? Who knew. It worked on him, somehow, and even their great uncle Ford’s journals couldn’t unravel THAT mystery in a hundred years.

“Okay at first I was upset this was about trying to change me somehow but now I’m worried about what this diet is doing to YOU,” he taunted, nipping at her sternum. She squeaked and bopped him with a throw pillow, which he snatched away and counter-bopped with. Soon they were wriggling and wrestling again, before there was a cacophony of awkward shouts and a THUMP! as the pair rolled onto the floor in a giggling heap.

“Aha, alpha twin wins again!” she said as she sat up, seated on his midsection. From this angle she could finally see the worn-out, faded Monster-mon shirt he had on and, if she was right (which she was!) he had on a pair of baggy running shorts. “Now then, to claim my prize,” she purred, leaning down to lock lips with him.

Their mouths seemed to vie for position against one another, the silly rough-housing more than adequate foreplay. She gripped his curly, brown locks in her hands, his own grasping against her waist as she rocked back to sit in his lap. His usual salty-flavor, that his kisses had, had taken on a maple quality thanks to the syrup he’d all but chugged at breakfast. Her tongue snaked out to get more of that, and as her tongue left her mouth, his replaced it. The two muscles tangoed, jousted, and shimmied back and forth from one mouth to the next. Every passing minute led to heavier breathing, more groans and sighs escaping each of them.

At some point-she couldn’t place when exactly, time was an abstract concept in smoochville after all-Dipper’s hands had left their positions on her hips and slid up under her shirt, each hand now cupping a breast, thumbs rolling over the pert nubs that capped each one. She writhed in his lap, and noticed that his breath hitched when her hips rolled just so. Giggling through a moan as she bit gently at his lower lip, she slid a hand back under his shorts and aha! He too had skipped the undergarment step today, she knew it. With another growling chuckle, she slid his shorts down just far enough to let the elastic catch under his balls, leaving him exposed against her naked-under-the-skirt rump.

His head fell back limp as her hand rubbed up and down his length, breath hitching as she gave the tip the slightest of squeezes with a giggle. “Fffffuck, Mabes do you HAVE to tease like this?” he groaned, his fingers giving her nipples simultaneous pinches. She squeaked, but pressed into his hands as she ground back against him harder, his shaft caught between her ass and hand.

“Aaaawww, but you make it so easy, broseph,” she said with a pleased, sing-song tone. “However, I have been pretty mean all week what with the food restrictions so today I’ll keep that step nice and short.” Her hips swiveled as she moved to grasp the base of his organ, and within the span of two seconds she was seated firmly over him, filled to the brim with his flesh. “Oh f-fuck!”

His hips bucked up at the feeling of those satin walls closing against him, his hands peeling the shirt over her head and chucking it onto the couch. She in turn tugged him into a sitting position, kissing him fiercely before breaking it and forcing his face into her cleavage. He growled, arms wrapping around her, nails digging into her back, leaving faint pink trails as his hands drug from shoulder-blades to hips. She hissed in response, grinding down against him.

“Nnnffff, if I d-didn’t know any better,” she whispered against his forehead, “I’d say you’re channeling anger for the diet into this fuck-sesh we’re having.” He chuckled and lifted his head to nip at her chin, only winking before he dove back down to suck a nipple into his mouth. She cooed, biting her lower lip as she felt that tell tale coil of pressure starting to build in her gut. Her hand snaked between the writhing bodies, two fingers bordering her button and swiveling around it. She was winning THIS race because he was crossing a different finish line, if she had any say. When his teeth grazed the nipple he was tending to, she felt that coil inside of her stomach snap.

“Oh my god, Dipp, oh my fffffffuggin’ GAWD,” she moaned into the top of his head, his thick curly hair muffling the shriek of pleasure that echoed through their apartment. They sat there quietly, panting, until he gave his hips a small wiggle as if to say ‘what about me?’ She chuckled, lifting up until she felt him pop free, a shiver going up his spine.

“B-but Mabes, I’m not done!” he whimpered into her chest, hands groping at her backside. She shooed them away as she slid back, maneuvering to lay between his legs as she lapped at his spire. “O-oh,” he mumbled, blushing as she locked eyes with him before engulfing the head.

_Okay, wowwie the diet works on ladies too, I guess!_ she mused as her tongue swirled over the now sweetened flesh. _If he’s half this good I’m gonna get addicted!_ And if his breathing was any indication, she noted, she’d find out faster than she originally thought because his chest was trembling, his forehead beading with sweat as his fingers dug into the carpet. Her head bobbed up, then back down, up and down, keeping a slow steady rhythm as she went, tongue suctioned to the underside of his dick. Pulling free softly, she planted a kiss on the tip as she stroked it with hand.

“Tell me when you’re close, babe,” she mewed, and he just nodded, his hips pumping to meet her hand, the surface of his turgid flesh patterned with veins as he drew dangerously close to that edge.

“Oh fu-fuck! Mabel, I’m g-gonna-!” he stammered, but he couldn’t even finish his sentence in time. _Now or never girl!_ she told herself as she wrapped her lips just over the tip and let him go off. Waves of hot stickiness filled her mouth, tongue rolling it around experimentally. At first all she could taste was his skin, but then oh man what was _THAT_.

_IT WORKED_ , she squealed in her mind. She gulped the first mouthful down and suckled a bit, thumb pressing to the bulge along the belly of his shaft, coaxing every drop she could out and swallowing with gusto. _Oh my god I never knew a guy’s stuff could be so DELICIOUS._ She even whined when she felt him go limp, letting him slip free of her lips with an audible pop.

“I… uh, wow Mabes. So I take it the diet was for that?” he panted out, and she just nodded with a chuckle. He huffed out a laugh, still short of breath as he turned to lean on the couch, pulling her in for a few smooches. When he pulled away, he licked his lips and snorted.

“And just what is so amusing?” she inquired, lifting one brow at him as he bit his lower lip. He looked her in the eyes, and the glitter she caught there spelled mischief.

“If that’s how I taste after a week of nonstop fruit and poultry sign me up for yoga cuz I need to get more flexible,” he replied, which got him a quick but harmless jab to the shoulder. “Ow, hey! Haha, joking, geeze sis. Like I’d ever pass up the chance to watch you do THAT again.”

She relented, and they curled up there for a bit and watched the TV, basking in the afterglow. Then his stomach growled. She stared at him, and he made a face as if to say “snack?” and she just nodded, untangling to let him get up. When he returned, he held two bowls, one for each of them, filled to the brim with fruit and a lone spoon jabbed into each. She perked a brow and grinned a snarky grin, to which he just shot her one of her Mabel-style eyebrow waggles, making her guffaw and thump a pillow against his face.

After a little bit of tousling, they settled back in, ate their fruit, and before long she noticed somebody was standing at full salute again, so she moved back in for round two.

She _could_ get addicted to this…

**Author's Note:**

> I've heard sources say that the fruits thing doesn't work, and that it does. For the sake of this completely fictional story with fictional characters having fictional sex, let's say it works!


End file.
